


Maybe one day I'll be yours

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [59]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff, Deviates at 6x8, F/M, First Kiss, Hopeful Ending, Love Confessions, Red Tent of Feelz, lots of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 16:10:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20294299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: When Brienne is about to leave the tent after speaking to Jaime, he has something more to say to her.





	Maybe one day I'll be yours

**Author's Note:**

> What if the red tent scene had more to it?

_ Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. _

His words stirred something within the depths of her, and she quickly retreated to the entrance, away from him, away from his piercing, yet warm gaze, away and soon to be out of this damned tent so that he would have no inkling of the tears that were beginning to invade her eyes. Tears of relief, they were, her silent gratitude to the gods that they didn’t have to fight each other today; and of heartbreak too, leaving her nursing the sinking feeling that they would probably have to swing their blades at one another the next time they met.

_ Tears of longing, _she realized, making a desperate attempt to suppress and swallow them, tears that brought to the fore her feelings for him, laying bare before him the emotions she’d been hiding in the remotest corners of her heart ever since Cersei had called her out.

_ Tears of helplessness, _she thought with a heavy sigh, knowing she could do nothing but pine for him from afar, never to see him again, except, maybe, as an adversary she might have to kill, never to have him, never to come upon a chance to tell him how much she loved him.

“If fortune favours us, we might fight alongside each other one day,” came his soft, yet crisp voice from just about a few inches behind her, “and not fight one another as we fear today.” 

Her feet hardening to stone at merely the sound of his voice, she couldn’t budge an inch from where she stood, his words confounding her already muddled brain. Her heart threatening to beat itself out of her chest at the prospect of facing him again, she turned on her heel, eager as well as anxious to look into those eyes again; eyes that had the same look in them when he’d refused to accept his sword back, something in the depths of them telling her that, he too, perceived her as more than just a mere acquaintance. It couldn’t be love, she was sure of that, for there was only one woman in this world who could be the recipient of his affections, but there was definitely something in the way he always looked at her, an emotion she couldn’t place.

He took another step in her direction, minimising the gap between them to almost nothing. “I--” she started to say, but speech failed her momentarily when she found those bright green eyes searching her soul and scanning the hitherto unexplored crevices of her heart. Try as she might, she found herself unable to look away from them, for they had the power to make her feel vulnerable, to bring out her carefully buried feelings to her face. “I doubt that would happen, you’re loyal to your house, while I’m--”

“--pledged to Sansa,” he continued, reducing his voice to slightly louder than a whisper, a regretful nod accompanying his words. “I’m well aware, wench, that it might not happen today, but maybe one day, maybe in better times--” he stopped, sighing deeply when he sought her hand.

His gesture totally unanticipated, her throat went dry when his fingers mingled with hers. “Ser Jaime--”

He began running his thumb gently over her knuckles, his touch sending shivers down her spine. “I wasn't talking about the sword earlier,” he interrupted her, undoubtedly referring to the conversation they'd had some time back. “You do know that, don't you?” 

Her heart had suddenly forgotten to pump blood through her veins at this revelation, and she found it difficult to stand there in his presence, her knees threatening to give way. _ It will always be yours, _ he’d told her not long ago, leaving her contemplating what he really meant. To be on the safer side, to protect her wildly thundering heart, she had taken it to be nothing more than a reference to his priceless gift to her, but now--

Before she could think, he cupped her face, softly caressing her cheek. Before she could do anything to stop him, he leaned into her, his mouth hovering for a second over hers. Numbed by his sudden move, she wanted to keep him at a safe distance, to tell him that this wasn’t to happen, but before she could react, his lips met hers, soft and tender, at first, a subtle touch, a gentle manifestation of his affection for her. Her hands found their way to his chest, and she clutched the leather he’d worn, an attempt, according to the frantic instructions her brain was trying to issue, to push him away, to break free of this wonderful kiss. Instead, her fingers slid up to his throat, stroking the only unclothed patch of skin she could lay her hands on, taking in every bit of him she could reach, his rough skin, his seductively coarse stubble, the mere feel of his flesh on hers. She let her hands wander, this time to his hair, and when she buried her fingers in his blond mane, he deepened the kiss, his throaty growl evoking unfamiliar, yet pleasurable sensations within her. He went a step further, teasing her mouth with his tongue, and she parted her lips, letting him in, immersing herself in the magic of the moment and drowning in him, determined to make the most of a rare god-given gift that would never come again.

Several glorious seconds later, when the ability to pay heed to her brain eventually managed to prevail over the weakness of her heart and her desires, she gently pushed him away. “This isn’t appropriate,” she cried, distress taking over once the euphoria had ebbed away.

“If this isn’t,” he said, his hand finding hers again, “then what is?”

_He can never be mine, not as long as Cersei's a part of him._

When she remained quiet, he went on in the same tender vein, “I do know that you care for me, Brienne, but if it isn’t anything more than that--”

“_It is,_” she quickly intervened, her voice breaking, “it is, Ser Jaime, it has always been, ever since Harrenhal, but your sister,” she reminded him of their ultimate and inevitable fate, her heart heavy with the agony of having to part with him after an intimate moment like this. “What about her?”

His grasp on her hand tightened. “She’s my sister, and I will always love her, but not like that,” he revealed, fixing her with an impassioned gaze, “not anymore.”

_ He loves me. _

While this unexpected revelation filled her with elation, it also crushed her that they’d soon have to walk separate ways. He was a Lannister, and she was sworn to the Starks, and they would always be on opposite sides until the last breath left their bodies.

He smiled, his handsome face making her ache for him even more. “I wish I could run away with you right now,” he told her wistfully, “I wish we could get away from all this and escape to some godforsaken island where we could have a future together. Just you and me.”

She swallowed, trying to overcome the lump in her throat. “Maybe in another life.”

He nodded sadly. “Maybe in another life.”

“Goodbye, Ser Jaime,” she said, barely able to manage a whisper while gently extricating her hand from his. And once again, with a heavy heart, she moved to the exit.

“No,” came his firm voice again just as she was about to step out, leaving her frozen to the spot, “it’s _not_ goodbye this time.”

She had no choice but to face him again, for what else could her poor heart do? “What do you mean?” she asked, his words confusing her. 

“I’m going to come for you, my lady,” he announced, his tone determined and his eyes brighter than before. “Not immediately, but as soon as I can, when the time is right.”

His proclamation left her surprised and wondering what was on his mind. “How can you--”

“Just have faith in my word, wench,” he croaked, his voice just as unnatural as hers, a reflection of his feelings for her. “Trust me.”

“I do,” she admitted, remembering how he’d returned for her to Harrenhal, “I always will, until my last day in this world.” His words left her with hope for a bright future, a life with the man she loved, marriage and children, and a quiet life on the isle of Tarth. 

The beautiful dream wiped away her tears, and unable to stop grinning like an idiot, she immediately turned to leave again, when he grabbed her arm. “I almost forgot to tell you,” he began, but before she could ask what he meant, he pulled her into his arms and started kissing her again. All her questions evaporating away, she gave in to her desires this time as well, going along with him, allowing him to knock her off her feet. “I love you, Lady Brienne,” he softly confessed when he relinquished custody of her lips. "I have, since Harrenhal."

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his when she stepped away from his embrace. “And I will always be yours, Ser Jaime,” she professed her love for him, earning an affectionate smile in return. 

Happier than she’d ever been in her life, she exited the tent, promising herself that she would look forward to the day she'd see him again. Even if it meant spending the rest of her life waiting for him. She loved him and trusted him enough to know that he would never let her down, never let go of her hand.

_ Yes, he will be mine one day, _ she thought to herself as she and Pod made their way to their horses, _ and I will be his... _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and let me know if you liked it!


End file.
